


Laundry Day, Mr. B.D.A., and the (Un)fortunate Laundromat Incident

by quizasvivamos



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:59:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4336538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quizasvivamos/pseuds/quizasvivamos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>hazelandglasz (tumblr) prompted: Meet cute at a laundromat where Kurt and Blaine take the other's laundry by accident ?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laundry Day, Mr. B.D.A., and the (Un)fortunate Laundromat Incident

**Author's Note:**

> *this one shot was previously posted on tumblr

Living in Bushwick was undoubtedly reasonable, but as the saying goes, you often get what you pay for, and it certainly rang true in Kurt and Rachel’s situation. After moving to the city, Kurt was soon finding that he had to make more than just a few compromises, some significant alterations to the way of life he was so accustomed to back home in Ohio. 

One of those compromises had to do with his cherished wardrobe. Along with a lack of other conveniences, there happened to be no laundry facility inside their building, and it was an understatement to say that Kurt wasn’t happy about it. He had to cut down what he wore and purchased to items that didn’t need too much extra care, but even his new restrictions and careful choices couldn’t keep him from having to make weekly trips to the dry cleaners as well as the laundromat. 

Laundry day had rolled around once again, and, after unloading select garments to be dry cleaned, Kurt sluggishly climbed back into the cab, sliding into the backseat beside his basket and bag of clothes, and directed the driver to his usual place. 

Once inside, he chose two washing machines, quickly filling them, adding detergent, and then finding a seat to wait patiently to switch them over. Kurt usually minded his own business when he was here, never paying much attention to the people around him, and he played on his phone until he had to put his clothes in the dryer. The process was never very exciting, it was simply a chore, and it got to the point where he just did without thinking to get it done. 

Back in his seat, Kurt began to doze, and he wished they served coffee here so he wouldn’t need to leave the building for a pick-me-up. He knew the dryers remained locked until the cycle ended, but he didn’t trust that, if for some reason he did leave and didn’t make it back in time, his clothes would still be there. 

But time felt like it was dragging on and on, and Kurt’s vision grew blurry and eyelids began to droop and fell closed. His head nodded, and he quickly sat up, trying to shake himself awake, deciding then that he’d have to take the risk for the sake of caffeine. 

He checked the timer: thirty minutes left. He promised himself he’d be quick, and since there was a Starbucks on every corner in the city, it was a very possible feat. 

It didn’t stop him from practically running to his destination, making very good time, but when he pushed through the door, he wasn’t sure why it shocked him so much that there was a long line that wrapped around the small shop.

It couldn’t take too long, right? The overwhelming smells of the coffee and pastries and the promise that he’d soon have his hands on a cup of it kept Kurt in place, and he stood in the line, hoping that it wouldn’t be a long wait. 

Every few seconds, he checked the time on his phone, impatiently tapping his foot as the line gradually moved forward. When he arrived at the counter, he had about ten minutes to spare, and he ordered - an extra shot of espresso for good measure -, and then stepped aside to do a bit more waiting, feeling the urgency of his situation. 

Eight minutes. 

Six minutes. 

Kurt was beginning to perspire, and he grabbed his drink when called, thanking the barista and hurrying out of the coffee shop. 

His feet swiftly carried him back to the laundromat, and when he returned, he felt relieved to see that his dryer still had three minutes to go. He stood by it, and when the buzzer went off, he pulled it open and absentmindedly stuffed the clothes into his basket and bag, deciding he’d separate and fold them when he got back to the loft. 

All that mattered on the cab ride home was his coffee, and he sipped it, grateful to finally be finished with that generally unpleasant portion of his day. 

Kurt hadn’t expected to find out that the unpleasantness was far from over. When he finally set his basket down and reached into the bundle of clothing, he noticed that something was very very wrong with the clothes he had taken home. The discovery was like a shock to his system, and he was sure that, if the coffee hadn’t already woken him up, then what he saw definitely would have had the same effect. 

“Are these…mustard capris?” he said, holding them up. “Or just pants for a very short person…” 

Rachel began to laugh, and he was still too in shock to even glare at her. 

Kurt had made a mistake, a terrible mistake.

“It looks like you took someone else’s clothes by accident,” Rachel said, walking up beside Kurt to examine the rest with him. 

“Oh my god. What is this?“ he said slowly, holding up a pair of gray and white striped boxer briefs. “’B.D.A.’,” he read. “Whoever these belong to is more anal than I am about my clothes. He even has his initials stitched into the waistband of his underwear. I mean, that’s just ridiculous.” 

Rachel continued to giggle at Kurt’s misfortune and reaction, eating up every bit of the drama. “How did you manage to make that mistake, Kurt? Were you sleep walking or something?” 

“I might as well have been.” He looked back down at the pile and groaned. “Well, I’m sure -  _shit_. Someone has my clothes, because they definitely weren’t there. Both adjacent machines were empty. I can’t believe this mix-up even happened.”

“I’m sure Mr. B.D.A. is missing his customized panties as much as you’re missing your camo skinny jeans and print blouses, so why don’t you hurry back to the laundromat and try to get everything sorted out?” 

Kurt didn’t need Rachel’s prompting; he was already partway out the door by the end of her question. 

When he arrived back at the laundromat, he approached the counter, walking in on a conversation between a weary and worried man who looked around his age and the attendant. 

“I - I don’t know how it happened. This is so embarrassing,” he heard the man say. “I mean, these clothes are very nice, but they’re not mine.”

“Excuse me,” Kurt cut in. “You wouldn’t happen to be ‘B.D.A’, would you?”

The man froze and then turned around, his mouth slightly agape when he laid eyes on Kurt. Gorgeous, warm, honey-golden eyes, Kurt noted. The man was certainly more petite than Kurt, he also noted, but he had a nice, slender frame, with curves in the right places, and a very handsome face. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Blaine Anderson. Those are my initials.” 

“Well, Blaine Anderson, I’m Kurt Hummel, and I believe I have your clothes. Maybe it’s a good thing you took the extra precaution to, uh, leave a distinguishable mark of ownership on certain garments.” 

Blaine’s cheeks began to color, and he looked away for a moment.

“Wow, um. These are yours then…?” he said, holding out his basket. They moved away from the counter to make a proper exchange. “I’m so sorry this happened. I must have grabbed yours by accident. I was in such a hurry to get to class, and, well, now I’m missing it completely due to my stupidity.” 

“It’s alright. I’m just as guilty. I made it all the way home before I realized these weren’t mine,” Kurt admitted, feeling just as sheepish as Blaine. 

“I’m just really glad that it was you and not some weirdo who took my clothes.” Blaine watched Kurt for a moment as he sifted through his clothes, making sure everything was accounted for. “You look kinda familiar.”

Kurt looked up suddenly. “I do? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before, so I have no idea how you could know me.”

“I don’t know, I can’t really place it, but I feel like I’ve seen you before. Perhaps around campus? I go to NYU.”

“No, couldn’t be that. I’m at NYADA.”

“Oh.” Blaine sounded a little disappointed. “Your face isn’t one that would be easily mistaken though.”

“What?” Kurt said, growing slightly defensive. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that you have very unique features - very beautiful and distinct,” Blaine said, quickly saving himself.

Kurt felt himself grow hot under Blaine’s gaze now. “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Thanks,” Blaine said, huffing out a laugh. 

Kurt finished checking his clothes, glad to see his entire wardrobe, and then he looked up at Blaine again, now very curious about this kind stranger who was more than easy on the eyes. 

“So, Mr. Blaine D. Anderson,” Kurt began. “What does the ‘D’ stand for?”

“Let me take you out, and we can discuss it over a drink,” Blaine said, so smoothly that Kurt couldn’t believe it. “I’ll tell you all about the ‘D’, and you can tell me more about you so I can find out where I know you from.”

“Okay,” Kurt said without hesitation. “Deal.” 

“Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

“Good,” Blaine said, a bright, mesmerizing grin taking over his features.  

“After all, I  _have_  already seen your underwear,” Kurt said with a wink. 

“We’ve seen each others’ unmentionables. I think a date is the next logical step,” Blaine joked, a twinkle in his eyes. 

And considering the crazy, mixed-up day Kurt was having, he supposed it truly was. 


End file.
